Left For Ghost
by Raven Midnight Memoryz
Summary: After moving into maybe the most beautiful house ever Raven finds herself with a strange visitor from beyond the grave who has been in the house for decades and this visitor loves to cook.


Left for Ghost

The house was new, filled with emptiness, but I loved the feel of it. It was old but the house in itself was art. The last box was now empty and I stepped back and took in my new room. The walls painted with a creamy gray from years of standing, but the room tied together with modern of my belongings and the old that wrapped around it as the 100 year old house. I plopped onto the black velvet bed and took in the feelings that raced in my head. It was sad to think that I was the only one that could take in living in the beautiful house but that was just that. The bed managed to let me slip into sleep letting my days work come to another end. But even the new house couldn't keep the monsters from chasing me from my sleep to see the sun peaking in from the window. I hugged the pillow, took a deep breath and then let the pillow go and made my way down stairs. The kitchen sat hidden from front door just behind the wall the stairs laid. The pancakes sat on the plate dripping with butter but I didn't touch it, I left it sitting on the counter, alone, while I just stared at it. But I just couldn't eat it. I walked slowly back up the stairs to take a shower and get dressed.

No one cared as I walked in the doors of the auto mechanics garage. I kept my eyes to the locker room to clock in. The many noises of drilling, cranking, and clanking metal echoed from the walls as the smell of gasoil and other oils made the air stale. I pulled the jumpsuit over my cloths and tied my hair back. I took each step carefully as I made my way to the minivan with the power steering broken. I had to replace it and the part still hadn't come in yet. So I just checked the oil and looked for things I could fix, not like the owner would really mind. So maybe I was one of the best mechanics at this garage and that was good for a girl but most people won't let me work on their car because they think I don't know anything. I buffed a dint out of the driver's door and aired the tires up then the part came in. I unscrewed the bolt from its frame and pulled the power steering out from the side of the car and then slid the new one in.

The too long of a day finally came to an end and I found myself lying on my bed relived that I was done with another day of work. My tummy growl and reminded me that I hadn't ate all day, again but I couldn't bring myself to go down stairs and make something to eat. My eyes fell to a shut letting the darkness overwhelm me with sleep. The smell of something cooking woke me before the nightmares could catch me. I sat up from my bed, looking around at the room. My footsteps tiptoed down the stair case and around the wall to the kitchen. Sure, the pancakes still sat there still untouched but now there was a new plate of Mac and cheese sitting next to it. I stared at the dancing steam that came from the cheese covered noodles, and the fork in my hand, poking at it. It was a mystery of where the food came from and who made it. I dug the fork into the pile and brought it to my lips. I chewed the noodles; the noodles where cooked prefect and the cheese weren't too watery or to thick, it was just right something I could never do. So, me sleep walking was out of the question, but that rolled it down to someone, but who? and why? And how? But I had to admit who ever did cook this was a damn good cook. It was my first meal in days, even thought I'd got up each morning and made something for myself but I could never find myself to eat it. It had been like this for who knows how long, maybe ever since I was fifteen but now I was twenty-one, what could you say about that? Nothing, maybe I was depressed and I could understand that. Everyone had pushed me out of their lives about the time I was a sophomore and well with my luck it got worse and worse. I was completely alone, and it had been like this for years. I made my way up the steps to my room lying back in bed trying to lose all those painful memories again to the darkness.

Claws ripped at my flesh making my body fall numb, but my eyes flashed open before anymore ripping could happen. I sat up looking around at the room; I pulled my legs to my chest and placed my face in my hands. Sometime past noon I found myself getting up from the bed and making it down stairs, only to sit on the couch and zone out again. The smell was filled with mixtures of bacon, eggs, and cheese, my nose was in love with the smell taking me to the kitchen. The stranger stood over the stove, moving gracefully as he moved the pan around. My heart was racing but of course I didn't know what to do, run, scream, call the cops but I was frozen as I watched him. There was one fact that stood there with us, this boy wasn't human; he wasn't alive because his upper body to his knees where there but past the knees faded into nothing. There was something about all this that was crazy, the fact that I knew that before me was a ghost and he was cooking, was that normal? No, a ghost doing anything wasn't normal. The ghost turned around, the pan in hand as he dumped it on the plate on the counter. His eyes moved to me and I looked back unsure as to do but he did nothing but stare back.

"Who are you?" I managed to say in a broken voice.

"Andrew." He gulped before speaking but as soon as he spoke he was gone, transparently disappearing in to thin air, leaving the plate unattended. I didn't know how to feel, I was emotionless but either way I couldn't turn down eating that bacon. I graved the fork and stabbed a piece of bacon and egg. It was funny that I hadn't eaten for days, the idea of eating food was repulsing then but some how this food, this Andrew Ghost had not only cooked but something about eating it was inviting, that as soon as the food touched my tongue that all the bad would go away, the nightmares would be no more and this emptiness would fade away.

The calendar said it was Saturday but it felt like a Sunday, like tomorrow was going to be work again. I hid in my room like every other day, but there was a reason, a intruder and not any intruder, a ghost…This is when I started wishing the Ghostbusters were real but wait, the ghost hadn't done anything but cook, was that so bad? Not really I guess, and this ghost had a name… Andrew. I replayed the whole thing in my head again but it seemed clearer than before. His face was beautiful and flawless, even with his dark hair in the way of it. He was a really amazing cook too; I wanted more of the bacon and eggs he made. I sighed and wrapped myself in the blanket but kept my eyes on the door. When I closed my eye, my head now filled with so many things and then nothing. So many secrets filling the light blue, I don't know why but I wanted to know; why he was here, how he died, and why here? As much as none of this made senses of it I wanted to make senses of it. Not even the thought of that kept the nightmares away, thought. I was still awoken by the snarls and screams of the monsters, so I just laid there doing nothing.

Like always.

I'm not sure why he gave me hope, why would he of all things give me hope but I found myself in the kitchen waiting for him. But he never showed, as if he was a spy and his cover had been blown, so sometime by the evening I found myself laying in my bed, fighting the monsters, fighting for life, fighting to see Andrew again. The monster's held on to me longer, longer then most times. Clawing, digging, ripping, and biting. I felt death lying next to me on the cold hard ground while I trying to pull away from the shadowed beasties. For a moment, I did feel dead but when my eyes flashes open life bid me good morning in its sick twisted way of nightmares and reminded me I was not yet dead.


End file.
